Give Me The Truth Or Give Me Death
by CrazyNerdyFangirl
Summary: Post Fang. Fang's letter to Max is a fake. He has really been captured by the School. Is it really all just Dylan's fault? Why did he do this? Two-shot. R & R?
1. Chapter 1

**AN: I thought that Fang's reason for leaving at the end of FANG was really crappy, so I decided to write a story about the **_**real**_** reason he left. And I felt like making Dylan the bad guy in one of my fics. I mean, I kill him enough times in another story. And no, I'm not going to kill Dylan in this story. I think I've killed him enough times. This is going to be a two-shot. It takes place about 3 months after Fang left Max. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Maximum Ride. If I did, I wouldn't have put so many fanfiction clichés in FANG. **

The flock was so easy to manipulate. All he had to do was act innocent and helpless and like a pretty boy and he had them in the palm of his hand. Dylan smiled, looking at his reflection in the mirror. It was easy to play the pretty boy. He definitely had the looks.

Little did the flock know that he was definitely _not_ a pretty boy.

He had girls tripping over him. They fell for him quickly, easily. There was only one girl he hadn't gotten to fall for him yet. And that was Max. But she would be his soon. They belonged together. Were made for each other. She just didn't know that yet.

They thought Fang had left because he and Max couldn't concentrate around each other. Ha! Dylan had made that up on a whim. He couldn't believe when Max fell or it. It was a crappy reason. Fang loved Max too much to leave her even if it was for an extremely good reason. Oh, if only Max knew Dylan had made that "extremely" good reason up. But now Max was in pieces, exactly what Dylan had hoped for. But he didn't actually have to _hope_ for it. He had expected it. A weak Max was crucial to his plans.

A plan that he could fully begin to put into action now that Fang was safely locked away somewhere and Max was only a ghost of her former self.

Dylan had been put in Fang's room when Fang had left. Max hadn't originally wanted anyone in that room—she never truly gave up hope that Fang would one day come back to her. Dylan snickered. He'd definitely _want_ to come back to her, but he was…occupied with other problems. Eventually, Max had relented and said that Dylan could have Fang's old room because the room he and Iggy had been sharing was too small for the both of them.

So Dylan had gotten Fang's old room. He thought it was funny that many of the members of the flock kind of expected Dylan to replace Fang as the second-in-command. Many of them had already started looking up to him and asking him for his opinions and letting him make some minor decisions. It was mostly the younger kids, who needed a parental figure to look up to, especially since Max was always her room mourning. What they didn't know was that Dylan planned to do far more than just replace Fang.

But first he had to put the first part of his plan into action: get Max to trust him.

He walked to her room, knocking on the door to see if he would be allowed admittance. He didn't do it because he respected her personal space. He only wanted her to _think_ he respected her personal space.

A muffled voice came from the room. "Who is it?"

Dylan forced himself to make his voice sad, as if he gave a damn that Fang was gone. "It's me, Dylan. I just want to talk, Max."

There was silence as Max considered whether to let Dylan in or not. Finally, she said, "Okay."

Dylan opened the door and peered in, preparing himself to act better than he had ever had to act before. The room was dark, the lights were out and the curtains were covering the window, letting no light in. The room was a mess, as if someone had ransacked it in a violent rage. Pieces of loose-leaf lined notebook paper were strewn around the room, some blank, some with illegible words scribbled upon them. Dylan stood in the doorway, surveying the mess. A shelf of books had been knocked over, and the books were scattered all over the room, some with random pen scribbling on the cover and pages torn out.

Dylan spied a piece of notebooks paper lying near his feet. He picked it up, trying to make out what had been written on it. The words were messy; they had been scribbled on the page in a rush. There were tear stains on the page, which made the ink run and the words even less legible.

Dylan didn't dare turn on the light in the room, so he held the piece of notebook paper up to the light in the hallway. Eventually, he could tell what had been written on the page:

_Dear Fang,_

_No, you don't even deserve a "dear" anymore. You're a _(there were multiple tear stains here, so Dylan couldn't tell what had been written) _asshole! You promised we'd stay together. Then you left me. Nothing's going to be able to heal my wounds, Fang. Nothing. I hate you, I hate you, I hate you! But that's the thing. I _don't_ hate you. Not really. I want you to be back here with me, by my side. No one can ever replace you. Not Dylan, though he's tried. The flock is trying to be strong, but I can tell they're hurt too. I haven't even tried to hide how hurt and broken I was after you left. Maybe I should, for the flock. But I can't. It's too hard. I can't hide behind a wall that would shield all of my emotions from the world like I used to. I broke down those walls when I accepted how I felt about you, Fang. I had to break them in order to love you. And now you've gone away, and I can't rebuild those walls. The sad thing is…this is going to sound pathetic, but…I love_

The writing ended there. Dylan held the letter in his hand, looking at the words. Apparently, Max had been writing drafts of a letter she wanted to give to Fang in response to his goodbye letter. Dylan had to admit that it was a good way for her to vent her feelings, even if she could never give the letter to Fang. But she only _thought_ Fang had written the goodbye letter. If she really wanted to write a response to the letter she had found, she could just give it to the boy standing in her doorway.

Dylan looked around the room, but he couldn't see any sign of Max. He walked into the room, pieces of paper crunching under his feet. Now he could see that the other pieces of paper were letters that Max had started but never finished.

Then, Dylan saw a lump on the bed. It was covered by blankets and wasn't moving. It could just be a pile of pillows covered by a blanket. Or it could be Max. Dylan hoped it was the latter as he walked over to the mass and patted it with his hand gently.

Suddenly, a head poked out of the pile of blankets. It was Max, but a very different Max from the Max she had been when Dylan had first met the flock. Her hair was a mess and there were uncountable tangles in it. Nudge would have a conniption if she saw it. There were bags under Max's eyes and her eyes seemed duller. Her skin was pale and she was skinny, probably because the only food she ever ate was what the flock members brought to her bedroom. They always brought her a lot of food, but she never ate all of it. In fact, there was the smell of rotten food in Max's room.

Max's eyes landed on Dylan, appraising him. "What so you want?" she said wearily. Dylan could tell that Max tried to make her tone steely, but she just sounded like someone who had suffered so much that she didn't really care about anything anymore.

"The flock wants their leader back." Dylan made no physical contact with Max in case she pushed him away, a likely possibility. He knew he had to take this slow.

"I was never gone," Max said, now with some of her old stubbornness and fire back in her voice. Dylan started panicking internally. He couldn't let Max become strong enough to become the flock leader again!

Dylan gestured to Max's disheveled appearance. "They don't want _this_."

Now Max looked slightly ashamed. "But I miss him." She curled up into a ball on the bed, as if wanting to hide from the world.

"I'll always be there for you, Max," Dylan said softly, hoping that statement wouldn't scare Max away.

Max looked at him in surprise. "But you know I can't love anyone ever again. You know that, right?"

Dylan sighed dramatically. "Max, I'm not asking for love. I'm just asking you that if you need a friend to talk to, I'm here."

Max's eyes looked sad. "I can't trust you Dylan, I'm sorry." She suddenly took an interest in her blanket and began picking at a loose thread.

Dylan began to stroke Max's hair gently. Surprisingly, she didn't pull away. Maybe she craved human (or at least part-human) contact more than he thought she did. No one, not even Max, would want to suffer completely alone. Dylan had been right. Max was weak now. She wanted someone to comfort her. And if the first person who cam to her was Dylan…

"Maybe I can take over the flock for you for a little bit? I won't be the official leader, but since you want to wait a little before facing them again, I can help keep order. Iggy will help me. I want to help you, Max." Dylan said this soothingly, hoping she would buy his lie. He crossed his fingers behind his back. It all depended on whether Max trusted him or not.

Max was already drifting off to sleep. The mere act of talking to someone tired her out. She didn't seem like she was in a good state of mind to make decisions right then. But that was what Dylan had wanted. "Okay," Max said sleepily, buying Dylan's lie. She was just glad someone would be willing to take the responsibility of leading the flock off her shoulders.

Dylan smiled crookedly. He had gotten what he wanted.

The School

Fang hurt all over. Not that he would ever admit that to anyone. He had been stabbed with needles, prodded with "scientific instruments", and made to run around a maze with a burning hot floor for countless of hours. And that was just that day. He didn't want to relive what had been done to him the first few days he had been brought here. He had forgotten that being experimented on hurt so much. They did this all "in the name of science".

Yeah, what a load of bullshit.

But what hurt the most were the videos that they had shown him a few weeks into his stay here. They were horrible. Each and every one of them featured Max and Dylan. Together. They were always kissing or cuddling or doing other things couples did. They had gotten together. Max had forgotten about Fang. Heck, she wasn't even _trying_ to rescue him. And that hurt more than all his physical pain combined.

He wanted to go back and tell Max how much of an asshole Dylan was. He wanted to tell Max that _Dylan_ had been the one to give the orders for the School to capture Fang. Fang tried not to think about the fact that Max might not care about that. She might want to be with Dylan anyway. She might _want_ Fang out of her life. And judging from how passionately Max had been kissing Dylan in one of the videos Fang had been shown, that could very well be true.

But Max had to know the truth about her new boyfriend anyway. She deserved that, at least. And maybe, just maybe, she would hate him and she and Fang would be able to live happily ever after in some kind of perfect, fairy tale ending.

Yeah, when pigs fly.

But Fang desperately needed to tell Max those three words that he had always been too cowardly to say to her in person.

Fang began to devise a plan.

**AN: I don't **_**think**_** Fang ever told Max he loved her in FANG. I don't remember much of that book. I'm trying to suppress most of my memories of reading it. It was one fanfiction cliché after another. It wasn't **_**bad**_**, just not **_**good**_**. Oh, the videos that were shown to Fang are obviously not the truth. **

**Review?**


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: Hey, this is the second and last chapter of this fic. Hope you people enjoy though it's not overly amazing. **

Fang looked at the School, which was now behind him. He was leaving. Finally. It had been simple, really. Two whitecoats had come to give him one of the two meals he got each day. The meals were healthy—they wanted their experiments healthy so that they could experiment on them—but tasted horrible. The only time Fang got a big meal was when the whitecoats needed him to have a lot of food in his body for an experiment.

But when they had come to his dog crate, he hadn't been there. He was gone. The dog crate was empty. The whitecoats had looked around frantically, searching for him, thinking that he had escaped. Little did they know that Fang had been right there in front of them all along.

They just hadn't seen him. He had been invisible. The whitecoats who had been sent to give him food hadn't been important—they hadn't gotten all the information about the flock, and among the information they hadn't gotten were everybody's powers. They hadn't known that Fang could turn invisible.

They had frantically run to tell some higher-ups about Fang's disappearance. They had left Fang's cage unguarded. He had slipped out easily. He had walked to the front door of the building, stopping every few feet so that he could blend into the background. He made sure not to bump into anyone. It was slow progress, but he eventually made it to the front door. It was sheer luck that he hadn't triggered any alarms.

There had been guards stationed around the front doors. But when the whitecoats had searched Fang for weapons when he had first gotten here, they had overlooked something. Fang leaned down so that his hand was grabbing his shoe, a seeming innocent black Converse. He pulled it off so that he was only wearing a black sock. There was a minuscule red button on the toe of the shoe. Fang pressed it, then quickly threw it at a wall far away from the entrance.

Seconds later, there was a loud noise, the sound of an explosion. It had come from where Fang had thrown the shoe. Smoke billowed out, surrounding the area of the explosion. When the smoke began to clear out, everyone could see that a large hole had been blown in the wall, leading outside.

"What the hell? One of the prisoners is trying to escape!" one of the guards yelled. The other guards flocked to the place the explosion had taken place, leaving the entrance completely unguarded. Fang slipped out the door unnoticed. It had been almost too easy. He wondered why he hadn't done it sooner. Oh, right. It was because his ex-girlfriend was now dating _the asshole_ who had given the orders to capture Fang in the first place.

Fang unfurled his wings and took off into the sky. By the time the people at the School had realized that the explosion was just a distraction, Fang was already long gone. He only hoped Max would take him back.

* * *

"How's Max?" Iggy asked Dylan worriedly. Dylan closed the door to Max's bedroom softly.

"She's not doing well…" Dylan replied, wincing.

"When can we see her?" Iggy demanded.

"She doesn't want to talk to anyone right now." With those words, Dylan pushed past Iggy and walked down the hallway and down the stairs, stopping in the living room. In truth, Max had wanted to see the flock for days now; Dylan hadn't allowed them to see her because he didn't want the flock to bond with Max again. That could mean the downfall of his plans. He had to keep them apart. And he had made excuses to Max too. He had told her that the flock hadn't wanted to see her because they wanted for her to get over the loss of Fang first. And Max had believed that lie. Bird-kids were so gullible these days,

The flock was gathered in the living room. Iggy was right on Dylan's heels. They both walked in. Dylan took a deep breath. It was time to deliver some "terrible news". He didn't bother with putting up mind blocks. Angel could read his mind all she wanted.

"I was patrolling this morning and I saw some Erasers," Dylan said with a fake hint of urgency and worry in his voice. He sat down on the couch, as if tired. He rubbed his forehead with his fingers. He sighed wearily. Acting the part almost too easy. The whole flock already looked up to him as an unofficial leader.

Nudge gasped. Angel looked extremely worried. Iggy just nodded, having already been told this by Dylan. After all, Dylan had to make Iggy feel important, right? Dylan knew that one of his greatest frustrations had been that he had felt like he hadn't been appreciated by the flock. So Dylan knew that he had to make Iggy feel like Dylan trusted him, that Dylan treated him like a second-in-command. Iggy ate it up. Gazzy let out a fart, like he always did when he was nervous. The others barely noticed—they were too worried.

"ZOMG! What are we going to do?" Nudge asked anxiously.

"Dylan, we don't even know whether they'll attack or not." Iggy's sightless blue eyes were aimed at a spot two inches above Dylan's head.

Dylan gritted his teeth and shook his head. "No. It's too big a risk. We need to leave."

Iggy bit his lip. "Shouldn't we ask Max?" he asked uncertainly.

"She's not exactly in a position to make big decisions right now," Dylan said, trying to keep the menace out of his voice.

"But she's still our leader," Gazzy said pointedly. Dylan clenched his fists. So they were still loyal to Max. Well, they wouldn't be for very long.

Dylan sighed. "All right. We'll wait a few days to see if they'll attack."

With a few nods and worried whispers, the flock dispersed. As Angel was getting ready to go up to her room, Dylan tapped her on the shoulder.

"So now what are we going to do?" he asked her.

Angel rolled her eye contemptuously, making her look older than a mere seven years old.

"It's simple, Dylan," she said.

* * *

Max wanted out. She wanted out of this room that had been her hideout for months. But Dylan had said that the flock didn't want to see her until she had fully healed from the loss of Fang. And she would respect their wishes.

She just wished she could see them now. Maybe winning back the respect of her flock would help her get over…_him_. She refused to think his name, not wanting to burst into uncontrollable tears. No, she had to learn to be strong.

Suddenly, she heard a knocking noise on from her window. She looked over to it, confused. She saw a dark silhouette but wasn't able to figure out exactly what it was because it was pouring too hard. It was raining cats and dogs out there.

Max frowned and walked over to the window, opening it. A dark, wet body climbed in. It was a boy, about 15 or 16. A boy with wings. A boy Max hadn't seen for months. A boy who she had loved and was now struggling _not_ to love.

Fang.

Fang suddenly looked at her with his dark eyes. They looked panicked. It was strange for Fang to show any emotion at all, and Max wondered why he was so panicked. But truthfully, her brain had basically stopped working when she realized the boy was Fang. She was operating on autopilot.

Fang stood up, shaking himself off. A few water droplets landed on Max but she didn't register them. She didn't register anything. The word "Fang" just repeated itself over and over in her head like a broken record. She was still in shock. Completely, totally, and utterly in shock. She barely registered the fact that Fang looked bad. Not bad as in "not good-looking", because he looked as handsome as ever. But he had bruises covering his body and bloody bandages covering parts of his body. He looked like he had gone through a fight. He also looked incredibly tired.

"Max, you can't trust Dylan. He told the School to capture me. He's working for them! He's one of them," Fang said urgently, but he was still sure to keep his voice low. Warning Max would have been totally pointless if Dylan burst in and found out what Fang was telling Max.

Max looked confused. "What do you mean he gave the order for you to be captured by the School? You _left_ me." The Invincible Max looked like she was about to cry. Fang had never thought he'd see her cry again.

Now it was Fang's turn to look at Max confusedly. "I would never leave you willfully." Fang reached out toward Max, but she jumped back and looked at him fearfully.

She began to shake her head vigorously. "You're not real, not real, not real," she chanted over and over again, willing herself to believe it. Many times right after Fang had left, Max had thought that she'd seen him, but he was never real. They were just images conjured up by her own brain to help her deal with the grief of losing Fang. Because he _couldn't _be here.

Fang sighed. "Of course I'm real."

Max shook her head, tears almost escaping her eyes. "No, you can't be real."

Fang looked at her like she was crazy. "If I'm not real, would I do this?" He closed the distance between him and Max in a few strides. Max was too shocked to move. Then he took her face in his hands and touched his lips to hers. Kissing him was heaven. Sparks ran through Max's body. She began to wrap her arms around his body, wanting more…

Fang pulled away, his eyes wide. "I can't kiss you when you're with Dylan," he whispered.

Max's eyebrows rose. "I'm not dating Dylan," she said with conviction. Of course she had _thought_ about it. Dylan was sweet, smart, funny, handsome. He was perfect for her. There was only one problem. He wasn't Fang.

Fang looked at Max skeptically. "When I was in the School," Fang said, seeing Max flinch when he mentioned the School, "the whitecoats showed me videos of you and Dylan…together." Fang knew that Max was lying. She probably just wanted to not hurt Fang's feelings.

"Dylan and I aren't together! But I still have every right to like him. You left me without even saying goodbye in person," she hissed, jabbing her finger accusingly in Fang's direction.

"I told you! I never left you. I was taken by the School!" Fang's voice was rising now, but neither Max nor Fang noticed. They were too caught up in trying to prove each other wrong.

Suddenly, a wave of comprehension and insight hit Max. It was so obvious. It had been _right _there in front of her eyes; she had just been too blind, too stupid see it. "Dylan," she whispered. "Dylan," she whispered again, this time with more certainty in her voice. "He's behind all of this." Fang's eyes widened as he realized what Max was saying. It made so much sense now. Fang had _wondered_ how they had gotten those videos. The people in the videos must have been actors or clones. "He tricked us all. He—"

"I did? Why would _I_ do all of that?" a mocking, sarcastic voice came from doorway. Max and Fang spun to face the door, their eyes horror-stricken. In their moment of revelation, they hadn't heard footsteps come down the hallway and Max's bedroom door open.

Dylan was standing in the hallway, holding a gun.

Fang glared at Dylan and Max shifted into a threatening stance. It had all been Dylan's fault.

"I'm very disappointed in you two." Dylan shook his head pityingly. "Took you a while to figure it out, huh?"

"You told Max I left her," Fang said venomously. He wanted to strangle Dylan. Max had thought Fang hadn't cared about her enough to stay with her.

"Now you figure it out!" Dylan sighed exasperatedly like this was so obvious.

"Why?" Max asked. Some of the old fire and stubbornness was back in her eyes. She looked ready for a fight, which was probably caused by the fact that Fang was back with her. And her flock could be in danger. She _couldn't_ let Dylan do anything to the flock. She had been a bad leader recently. Time to make up for that.

Dylan shook his head slowly. These bird-kids were so _slow _to understand the obvious. "Because I want _power_."

Dylan looked…different. Before, Dylan had always looked complacent and friendly, but now, he looked…power-hungry. That was the only way to describe it. "If I led the flock, I'd have power," he said.

"So you fucking _lied_ to us?" Max yelled.

Dylan shrugged. "I had to get you two out of the way. But now I'll be able to get you two out of the way _permanently_." Dylan pointed the gun at Max, glorifying in the feel of it in his hand. Fang instinctively got in between the gun and Max, wanting to protect her.

Dylan smirked. "Aw, is our little Fangypoo defending Maxykins?" he said sarcastically.

"The flock won't listen to you," Max said, shaking her head.

"But they'll _have _to listen to me." A voice came from behind Dylan. Behind him walked out a blond girl with blue eyes. She looked about 7, but her expression made her look older. The expression on her face was identical to Dylan's. Power-hungry.

Angel was on Dylan's side.

"I can control their minds," she said, smiling pleasantly like they were all on some particularly enjoyable picnic. Then she frowned. "But I can't control your minds. Your minds are strong." Then her face lit up again. "But it doesn't matter. You'll be dead soon!"

Max was shaking her head more vigorously now, like she was trying not to believe it. Fang's face was pale. "You want too much power for your own good," Max said.

"But we all do, Maxie." Dylan pointed the gun at Max. "I think I'll shoot you—"

Dylan was interrupted by something that came out of nowhere and shoved him to the ground. It was so sudden that he hadn't had time to defend himself. He cursed. There was a body on top of him, preventing him from getting up. Angel couldn't help him. She was having problems of her own. She was engaged in a violent fight with one of her own flock members.

"Get away! Fast! I can only fight against her control for so long!" Iggy yelled at Fang and Max. He pulled the gun out of Dylan's hand and pointed it at him.

"Hurry!" Nudge yelled, still fighting Angel.

Max and Fang didn't have to be told twice. They knew Iggy and Nudge could only fight against Angel's mind control for a little bit. They ran over to the window, and Fang opened it. He jumped out first, then Max followed. The downpour of rain hit their faces and blurred their vision, but they flew on, glad to have escaped.

Max vowed she would one day stop Dylan.

"We need to find shelter," Max said, using one hand to shield her eyes from the rain.

"I love you," Fang said softly, unexpectedly. Max wasn't sure she was even supposed to hear that. She began to feel herself starting to smile.

"I love you too," Max replied. Fang reached toward her hand and grasped it firmly. Her hand warmed up immediately.

And in that downpour of rain, Max realized something. Maybe things weren't so bad after all.

**AN: Bad ending, I know. Review? **


	3. Author's Note

Hey. I've gotten some reviews telling me they want me to continue this story. So I'll let you decide. There's a poll on my profile. Do you want me to continue this? Even if the majority of people vote yes, I might not continue because I have no idea how I want to continue this. I want to think of an original idea before I continue. So vote, people!


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